Very Suave
by x Varda x
Summary: It's a special day for Neal. Too bad no one else seems to have noticed. Gen with Neal h/c.


**Title:** Very Suave  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG  
><strong>Characters:<strong> Neal, Peter, Diana, Jones, El  
><strong>Words:<strong> 1517  
><strong>Summary: <strong>It's a special day for Neal. Too bad no one else seems to have noticed. Gen with Neal h/c.

**A/N:** For the third and final **Collarcorner** prompt on **kriadydragon**'s list over on Livejournal. I got a bit stuck on this one, hence the delay. I see the prompts this month are all 'ouch' related which is a little overwhelming (I want to write most of them!)

xxx

They had solved two mortgage fraud cases in a day by the time it was to go home. But Neal felt sad inside, despite the success. He smiled broadly and kept his true emotions hidden as he pushed the glass door open and held it for a female agent also on the way out. She acknowledged him as she passed and he beamed broadly.

Neal sighed as he left the building a few minutes later. It was just another day for most people anyway. It wasn't like it was _special_or anything. Never had been, probably never would be.

He was contemplating getting a takeout dinner for one and bottle of wine on the way home when his phone rang.

"Peter."

"Hey, Neal. I've got a lot of cases to go through and I'd like you to come over to my place tonight so we can work on them."

Neal sighed silently, no longer needing to exude the facade of charm as he wove through the crowded sidewalk surrounded by strangers. "I'm busy tonight."

"Not tonight, you aren't. Come round in an hour and I'll even throw in a free dinner."

Neal should probably have a word with Peter about having his free time interrupted by work, but it was either this or prison, so he knew he wouldn't get very far with that argument.

xxx

It was raining by the time Neal left June's house to get to Peter's place. He put on his hat as he walked out onto the street.

"Need a lift, Caffrey?"

Neal's feet faltered as he glanced over at the owner of the voice in the car parked up. "Diana?"

"Peter wants some more files delivered for you to work on."

Neal walked over and got in the car. "And he happened to tell you that I was going round to help?"

Diana pulled the car away. "Something like that. Consider it a favour."

"Thanks. I hope your driving's better than Peter's."

xxx

Neal approached the door to the Burke's household with growing apprehension. Diana was acting strangely for a start. Since when had she ever offered him anything? She had even once said she'd break his arm(s) if he ever asked her for anything.

"Go right ahead," Diana said when Neal glanced back at her. She was busy getting something out the back of the car.

Neal walked up the steps and knocked on the door, his unease grew when he noticed that no lights were on inside.

"It's open," Peter called.

Neal opened the door with a small frown and walked into the darkness. "Hello?"

The lights abruptly turned on and the few people gathered shouted, "Surprise!"

Neal took a few seconds to recover and now that he could see, he saw 'Happy Birthday' balloons hanging up around the room, along with streamers and ribbons trailing over the surfaces. Probably all pilfered from El's business.

Peter, El, Mozzie and Jones were gathered around the dining table.

"Wow... wow..." Neal said, struggling to regain his calm.

Peter laughed. "Neal Caffrey, speechless. That's a sight I'd never thought I'd see."

Neal grinned. "Thanks guys. I thought you'd forgotten."

Jones smiled, "How could we forget when it's all over your record?"

Diana came in the door behind Neal carrying a big cake with candles lit on top. Satchmo gambolled over and Neal crouched down to head him off from tripping Diana. "Hey," he said as he scratched the dog's ears and his tail wagged happily.

Neal couldn't stop smiling and he blinked quickly as the others sang him happy birthday and he blew out the candles on the cake. He hadn't had a proper birthday party for years and years - he couldn't even remember when anyone had even acknowledged his birthday, much less given him anything for it.

El had commandeered some canapés and there was plenty of wine sloshing around.

They had all brought gifts and Neal's smile broadened when he opened them: lockpicks from Mozzie, oil paints and canvas from Peter, wine from El, socks from Jones and hair gel from Diana.

"Thank you all so much," Neal said, feeling uncharacteristically overwhelmed at the kindness of his colleagues – his _friends_.

xxx

A while later and after a couple more bottles of wine had been shared between them, Neal was standing up, playing with his hat while Jones and Diana watched from the couch. Peter and El were discussing the finer points of breaking and entering with Mozzie at the dining table.

"Can you put it under your leg then spin it onto your head too?" Jones asked.

"Sure. Watch."

Neal got the hat under his leg, but as he tried to put his foot back down, either the wine or the trick going wrong made him stumble. The hat fell from his hands as his ankle gave way and he went down. His arm impacted the low coffee table with a bang as he fell and rolled over onto the floor.

"Very suave, Neal," Peter called from the dining table.

Neal felt his face burning and used his hands to try and push himself back up, but he hissed at the pain in his right arm as it collapsed under him.

Diana was smiling at his expense, but her face fell as Neal sat upright on the floor looking dazed and moved his injured limb to place it against his chest. The pain was building to such an extent that it squeezed tears from his eyes.

"Peter," Diana said as she crouched down in front of Neal. She held his shoulders as he kept his eyes tightly closed.

"My arm hit the table," Neal said through gritted teeth as Peter joined Diana at Neal's level. "I think I just bruised it."

"Let's take a look."

They carefully removed Neal's jacket and soon revealed his badly bruised and slightly bowed lower arm. "Looks broken," Jones said from behind them.

Neal was trembling slightly and paled when he narrowly opened his eyes to see the damage. Mozzie looked as pale as Neal did and quaked and stepped back when he saw the injury.

"El, call an ambulance," Peter said as he rested the jacket over Neal's shoulders.

El came back a few minutes later with a bag of frozen peas wrapped in a towel. "The ambulance will be here in about ten minutes. They said that ice might help with the pain."

Neal's face smoothed out a little as the cold helped to numb his injured arm.

The EMTs soon arrived and applied stronger painkillers and loaded Neal onboard the ambulance.

Peter patted Neal's uninjured arm. "I'll come with you."

xxx

Neal stared at the sling his arm was in. A thick cast was wrapped around his lower right arm and he sighed sadly.

"Does it still hurt?" Peter asked from the other side of the taxi they were in, heading back to his place. Peter thought he could better look after his friend if they were under the same roof.

"A little, but not as bad as it was. I'm not sure if I can wear a suit jacket with this thing."

"Sorry about what happened. On your birthday too."

Neal smiled. "It was still one of the best birthdays I've ever had."

xxx

A few days later, Neal was feeling well enough to go back into the office. He had managed to struggle into a shirt and tie with El and Peter's help - it was going to be a few weeks until the cast came off when he would be able to regain his usual level of independence.

Peter came out onto the balcony and pointed at Neal and indicated for him to come to the conference room.

Neal sat down with a wince and held his hurt arm. The box of strong painkillers he had been given were a reassuring presence in his pocket.

Peter had a pile of files on the table and eyed the assembled team. "We've got a lot of work to do, as usual. But first things first."

He opened a packet of multicoloured marker pens and handed them out. Then he looked pointedly at Neal.

"Oh no! You can't be serious?"

Peter smiled. "Oh, we are."

Neal closed his eyes while the others attacked his cast with the pens. When they were done, he put it back in the sling as quickly as he could - he would have to read the embarrassing things they had written later.

xxx

Neal sat at his desk with the case files Peter had given him to read - nothing too strenuous and certainly nothing that might involve any fieldwork.

He narrowed his eyes as he looked down at the cast curiously. Instead of comments about clumsiness and how his injury was his own stupid fault as he had been expecting, he saw messages of sympathy and kindness:  
><strong>'That was a hell of a party,'<strong> with a picture of a hat.  
><strong>'Get well soon.'<strong>  
><strong>'No more forged paintings for a while.'<strong>

Neal smiled to himself as he opened the top mortgage fraud file in the pile.


End file.
